It is entirely seemly for a young man killed in battle to lie mangled by the bronze spear. In his death all things appear fair. But when dogs shame the gray head and gray chin and nakedness of an old man killed, it is the most piteous thing that happens among wretched mortals.
Related quotes
I Killed The Cat
damn i killed the cat
i can't believe it
a well placed kick killed
the cat yet no remorse
wait is that a smile
yea peaceful nights now
you waking up for cats yea
but no its not your life to take
you killed a living thing
it only a cat
there no where near extinction
so you have no problem
no the kids loved it
how do i explain it to them
ooh bury it and say it ran away
but they will be sad
sad! what sad face never killed
no one but my boot did
it collided in its tiny skull
it moaned till it pass
my god i killed the cat
i killed the cat
poem by Robert Roberts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Video Killed The Radio Star
I heard you on my wireless back in '52
Lying awake intent on tuning in on you
If I was young it didn't stop you coming through
Oh-a-oh
They took the credit for your second symphony
Rewritten by machine on new technology
And now I understand the supernova scene
Oh-a-oh
I met your children
Oh-a-oh
What did you tell them?
Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star
In my mind and in my car, we can't rewind we've gone too far
Wow
And now we meet in an abandoned studio
You hear the playback and it seems so long ago
And you remember, the jingles used to go,
Oh-a-oh
You were the first one
Oh-a-oh
You were the last one
Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star
Cause in my mind and in my car, we can't rewind we've gone too far
To far!
Alright
Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star
Cause in my mind and in my car, we can't rewind we've gone too far
Pictures came and broke your heart
So put all the blame on VCR
You are the radio star
You are the radio star
Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star
Video killed that radio star yes it did
song performed by by Offspring
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mrs. Merritt
Silent before the jury,
Returning no word to the judge when he asked me
If I had aught to say against the sentence,
Only shaking my head.
What could I say to people who thought
That a woman of thirty-five was at fault
When her lover of nineteen killed her husband?
Even though she had said to him over and over,
"Go away, Elmer, go far away,
I have maddened your brain with the gift of my body:
You will do some terrible thing."
And just as I feared, he killed my husband;
With which I had nothing to do, before God!
Silent for thirty years in prison!
And the iron gates of Joliet
Swung as the gray and silent trusties
Carried me out in a coffin.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rely on fate
A snake is killed for being a threat.
A rat is killed for being a menace.
A goat is killed for being a prey.
Anyone is killed by an accident.
Health and goodness will not save you.
28.07.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Video Killed The Radio Star
Music & Lyrics : Horn - Whooley - Horn - Downes
I heard you on the wireless back in Fifty Two
Lying awake intent at tuning in on you.
If I was young it didn't stop you coming through.
Oh-a oh
They took the credit for your second symphony.
Rewritten by machine and new technology,
and now I understand the problems you can see.
Oh-a oh
I met your children
Oh-a oh
What did you tell them?
Video killed the radio star.
Video killed the radio star.
Pictures came and broke your heart.
Oh-a-a-a oh
And now we meet in an abandoned studio.
We hear the playback and it seems so long ago.
And you remember the jingles used to go.
Oh-a oh
You were the first one.
Oh-a oh
You were the last one.
Video killed the radio star.
Video killed the radio star.
In my mind and in my car, we can't rewind we've gone to far
Oh-a-aho oh,
Oh-a-aho oh
Video killed the radio star.
Video killed the radio star.
In my mind and in my car, we can't rewind we've gone to far.
Pictures came and broke your heart, look I'll play my VCR.
You are a radio star.
You are a radio star.
Video killed the radio star.
Video killed the radio star.
Video killed the radio star.
Video killed the radio star.
Video killed the radio star. (You are a radio star.)
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I'm Killed
When I’m killed, don’t think of me
Buried there in Cambrin Wood,
Nor as in Zion think of me
With the Intolerable Good.
And there’s one thing that I know well,
I’m damned if I’ll be damned to Hell!
So when I’m killed, don’t wait for me,
Walking the dim corridor;
In Heaven or Hell, don’t wait for me,
Or you must wait for evermore.
You’ll find me buried, living-dead
In these verses that you’ve read.
So when I’m killed, don’t mourn for me,
Shot, poor lad, so bold and young,
Killed and gone — don’t mourn for me.
On your lips my life is hung:
O friends and lovers, you can save
Your playfellow from the grave.
poem by Robert Graves
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sebastian: She killed him. She held a pillow over his face and I held his legs. She killed Alexander Lester. She killed Boris Lester. Poisoned him with mushrooms and let him die. She killed that poorly... [CRIES] She killed that boy so that we could be together. I thought I loved her.
line from Lady Macbeth by Alice Birch (2016)
Submitted by Festivalul Filmului European
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Only One Man Killed Today
There are tears and wails in the old brown house
On the hillside steep today,
Though the sunlight gleams on the outer world
There the clouds drift cold and gray.
'Only one man killed,' is the tidings read,
'Our loss was trifling; we triumphed,' 'twas said -
And only here in the home on the hill
Did the words breathe aught but of triumph still.
They had watched and waited, had prayed and wept,
These loving hearts by the cottage hearth,
And the hope was strong that their darling would walk
Unscathed and safe mid the battle's wrath.
They would have gladly shielded his life from ill,
But their trust was all in their Father's will;
They had felt so sure his love would save
The pride of their heart from a soldier's grave.
Now his wisdom has ordered what most they feared,
And their hearts are crushed by the news today,
'Only one man killed,' so the telegram reads -
But for them life's beauty has passed away,
And all the glory and triumph gained
Seems a matter small to the woe blood-stained,
That was in sorrowful strokes, like a tolling bell,
Throbs 'Only one man killed,' as a funeral knell.
'Only one man killed,' - so we read full oft,
And rejoice that the loss on our side was small;
Forgetting meanwhile that some loving heart
Felt all the force of that murderous ball.
'Only one man was killed,' comes again and again;
One hero more among the martyred lain;
'Only one man killed,' carries sorrow for life
To those whose darlings fall in strife.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ballad of the Murdered Merchant
All stark and cold the merchant lay,
All cold and stark lay he.
And who hath killed the fair merchant?
Now tell the truth to me.
Oh, I have killed this fair merchant
Will never again draw breath;
Oh, I have made this fair merchant
To come unto his death.
Oh, why hast thou killed this fair merchant
Whose corpse I now behold?
And why hast caused this man to lie
In death all stark and cold?
Oh, I have killed this fair merchant
Whose kith and kin make moan,
For that he hath stolen my precious time
When he useth the telephone.
The telephone bell rang full and clear;
The receiver did I seize.
"Hello!" quoth I, and quoth a girl,
"Hello! . . . One moment, please."
I waited moments ane and twa,
And moments three and four,
And then I sought the fair merchant
And spilled his selfish gore.
That business man who scorneth to waste
His moments sae rich and fine
In calling a man to the telephone
Shall never again waste mine!
And every time a henchwoman
Shall cause me a moment's loss,
I'll forthwith fare to that office
And stab to death her boss.
Rise up! Rise up! thou blesséd knight!
And off thy bended knees!
Go forth and slay all folk who make
Us wait "One moment, please."
poem by Franklin P. Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I've tried doing so, for it was never my intention to paint only with gray. But in the course of my work I have eliminated one color after another, and what has remained is gray, gray, gray!
quote by Alberto Giacometti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blair... is accusing us of executing British soldiers. We want to tell him that we have not executed anybody. They are either killed in battle, most of them get killed because they are cowards anyway, the rest they just get captured.
quote by Mohammed Saeed al-Sahaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Connoisseurs
O look at the horses and people!
How they hurry and trample and fight!
And the smoke blowing over the steeple,--
O look, how the guns shine bright!
See this one, this soldier, he's swinging
His sword over head in the air;
How the shot must be leaping and stinging!
See the men falling down everywhere!
Isn't this what the white folks call the war?
I wonder what they are doing it for.
And there's the big flag flying splendid,
White stars pretty red, pretty blue,
All torn. Do you think 'twill be mended,
And fly out again, good as new?
See the blue coats and gray coats, --I'm sorry
They bleed and they suffer and die;
What made all the fighting and worry?
Can you think of the reason why
They killed each other, the gray and the blue?
O dusky children, it was for you!
poem by Celia Thaxter
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At The Un-National Monument Along The Canadian Border
This is the field where the battle did not happen,
where the unknown soldier did not die.
This is the field where grass joined hands,
where no monument stands,
and the only heroic thing is the sky.
Birds fly here without any sound,
unfolding their wings across the open.
No people killed – or were killed – on this ground
hallowed by neglect and an air so tame
that people celebrate it by forgetting its name.
poem by William Stafford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Show
My soul looked down from a vague height with Death,
As unremembering how I rose or why,
And saw a sad land, weak with sweats of dearth,
Gray, cratered like the moon with hollow woe,
And fitted with great pocks and scabs of plaques.
Across its beard, that horror of harsh wire,
There moved thin caterpillars, slowly uncoiled.
It seemed they pushed themselves to be as plugs
Of ditches, where they writhed and shrivelled, killed.
By them had slimy paths been trailed and scraped
Round myriad warts that might be little hills.
From gloom's last dregs these long-strung creatures crept,
And vanished out of dawn down hidden holes.
(And smell came up from those foul openings
As out of mouths, or deep wounds deepening.)
On dithering feet upgathered, more and more,
Brown strings towards strings of gray, with bristling spines,
All migrants from green fields, intent on mire.
Those that were gray, of more abundant spawns,
Ramped on the rest and ate them and were eaten.
I saw their bitten backs curve, loop, and straighten,
I watched those agonies curl, lift, and flatten.
Whereat, in terror what that sight might mean,
I reeled and shivered earthward like a feather.
And Death fell with me, like a deepening moan.
And He, picking a manner of worm, which half had hid
Its bruises in the earth, but crawled no further,
Showed me its feet, the feet of many men,
And the fresh-severed head of it, my head.
poem by Wilfred Owen
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Shades Of Grey
If you start here late no one will know what you did
No the streets are straight its the soul thats crooked
Ive been treated fine Ive been treated elegantly
But Im not one for bathing in the waters of plenty
East is east west is west
And bowery is screaming while delancey rests
Well Im south of the skating but Im north of the cash
I could sure use the money but Im ashamed to ask
The traffic has buried all of last nights rain
The words are all different but the accent is the same
The sun is white and the moon is gray
And the river is black blue and green
The young are young and the old are old
And there are no shades of gray in between
Theres at least ten different strains of smoke in the air
And my prints are on them all to prove I was there
And I love the curses but Im not one for the trenches
And I do love the walking but thank God for the benches
Its hard to tell where green begins and the city gray stops
I guess the trees all bought their armor at second hand shops
My second had is working but the minute hand is broke again
I know time will pass but I dont know when
The sun is white and the moon is gray
And the river is black blue and green
The young are young and the old are old
And there are no shades of gray in between
And there are no shades of gray in between
I know the great ones have been here but where I cant tell
Theres dreams here a plenty but theyre being withheld
And Im more impressed with the closed doors than the ones that are open
The whole place tells time by a tower clock thats broken
The pigeons are ravens and the gulls are vultures
And trash is art and cash is culture
The sun is white and the moon is gray
And the river is black blue and green
The young are young and the old are old
And there are no shades of gray in between
There are no shades of gray in between
There are no shades of gray in between
song performed by by Eagle Eye Cherry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gray Knight
Gray is vibrant, nagging us terribly,
For it is dark in its enticement,
It lures you deliberately, and dreams are on.
The chivalry is gray and defies immortality,
For he is concrete in his dress and garb,
Ever so clever with battle-axe and whispers.
Uncomfortably, he speaks unholily,
For a knight this is deranged and psychotic,
Sucking the sleep of years.
Gray is the sleep adjusted to the days and nights of our lives.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Prodigal
I face the day again
Against the window pane.
I remain your closest friend,
And wish you back again.
You wonder how i feel;
You think you've pushed too far.
If only you could see this pen
Scribbling down my heart.
I'll be waiting.
I may be young or old and gray,
Counting the days,
But i'll be waiting,
And when i finally see you come,
I'll run when i see you--
I'll meet you.
But still the days drag on.
Why did you decide to go?
Did you only need to see
What only time can show?
I'll be waiting.
I may be young or old and gray,
Counting the days,
But i'll be waiting,
And when i finally see you come,
I'll run when i see you.
And even if
You never do return,
Still i will have learned
How to love you better.
I'll be waiting.
I may be young or old and gray,
Counting the days,
But i'll be waiting,
And when i finally see you come,
I'll run to meet you.
I'll be waiting.
I may be young or old and gray,
Counting the days,
I'll be waiting,
And when i finally see you come,
I'll run to meet you.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Olive Garden
(Rainer Maria Rilke)
He went up under the gray leaves
All gray and lost in the olive lands
And laid his forehead, gray with dust,
Deep in the dustiness of his hot hands.
After everything this. And this was the end.
-- Now I must go, as I am going blind.
And why is it Thy will that I must say
Thou art, when I myself no more can find Thee.
I find Thee no more. Not in me, no.
Not in others. Not in this stone,
I find Thee no more. I am alone.
I am alone with all men's sorrow --
All that, through Thee, I thought to lighten,
Thou who art not, O nameless shame ...
Men said, later: an angel came.
Why an angel? Alas, there came the night,
And leafed through the trees, indifferently.
The disciples moved a little in their dreams.
Why an angel? Alas, there came the night.
The night that came was no uncommon night:
So hundreds of nights go by.
There dogs sleep; there stones lie,
Alas a sorrowful, alas any night
That waits till once more it is morning.
For then beseech: the angels do not come,
Never do nights grow great around them.
Who lose themselves, all things let go;
They are renounced by their own fathers
And shut from their own mothers' hearts.
poem by Randall Jarrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Loss
God walks the Earth no more
And
We, are left alone.
To fight our battles
Climb our hills
To watch our personal dawns.
We feel no more
Our passions dead.
We have gone
Where only mortals tread.
We have no hearts
Our loves are lost
Our innocence
The greatest cost.
What remains
But, empty skeletons
Godless creatures, gutless men.
We have no hearts
Nothing beats in our chest.
Savages all, yet worse our cost
We've lost our dreams
And
Nothings left.
Barren lands
Brown bittered grass.
We've killed our gods.
We've killed ourselves.
What remains
But mortal shells.
The long night's here
It brings no stars
No hopes, No dreams
Just painful scars.
We've killed ourselves.
Innocence lost.
Dreams that once were
Have turned to dust.
All that's left
Has begun to rust.
We've stayed too long
And, killed too much.
Savages, with thirsts for blood.
We've killed ourselves
Our innocence lost.
Hope is gone
poem by Rabia Minhas
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There is no way you're going to have an event like 9/11 and expect things to remain the same. They killed 3,000 people in New York on that day, and if they could have they would've killed 300,000.
quote by Tony Blair
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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